
The artistic language of Ramsés Ruiz is rooted in a meticulous exploration of the human figure as a narrative source. His work also challenges the limitations of traditional materials, giving them renewed meaning. Each piece becomes a reflection on vulnerability, identity, and desire—emotions he considers universally shared. As he puts it: “The body is a permanent object of study. Even now, I don’t fully understand it. I approach it in approximations, through trial and error.”Through his words, Ruiz invites us into the emotional and conceptual engine behind his creative practice.

How do the different techniques you use shape your creative process?
Each of my works reflects a particular creative phase, a specific set of skills and material knowledge, a state of mind, or a personal question. I like to think that I’m not always the one choosing the technique—sometimes it feels like the piece calls out to me and asks to be brought into form.
In a world oversaturated with images, what obsesses you when creating a piece?
My obsessions come from within. I’m compulsive about perfecting details others may overlook. It’s not that I’m overwhelmed by visual culture—my own obsessions overwhelm me to the point where I often delay completing certain works.
How do you explore the tension between the mystical and the visceral in your art?
It comes down to not knowing whether I’m simply a channel for something greater or just the executor of a passing thought. That uncertainty often manifests as humor in my work. Laughter becomes a bridge between the sacred and the earthly—a way of holding both in conversation.
What have you learned about yourself by repeatedly sculpting skin, gestures, and fragments of the human form?
That I’m always evolving. I’m not who I was yesterday, much less who I was years ago. Since I’m not drawn to theory, I rely on direct experience—through sketches and models. My pieces are my reflections. They are the way I process not only the body, but everything that moves me.
What is your process when portraying the fragility of human emotion—stress, loneliness, or vulnerability?
It starts with a genuine connection to those emotions, seeing that energy mirrored in the model. And hopefully, the viewer finds something there that reflects their own lived intensity—a moment they once felt deeply.


How do you balance the autobiographical and the universal in your work?
Through humor, again. Subtle moments of complicity between the creator and the observer. A knowing smile, a shared gesture—those can carry both personal resonance and broad accessibility.
What guides your choice of color for a figure, a skin tone, or an atmosphere?
Often, I draw from sculptural tradition—the natural palette of marble or ceramic. This comes with a belief: that carefully rendered volume alone can radiate emotion and hold meaning, beyond any narrative I try to impose.
How does your work engage with contemporary ideas of gender, identity, and desire?
Despite the risks, I try to approach emotions, gestures, and human stories that are fundamentally universal.
In what ways has your context influenced your visual storytelling?
I imagine it has, though unconsciously. I don’t follow trends or current discourses intentionally, but they inevitably seep in. I am a product of my time and surroundings, and my work reflects that.
In an era where art is consumed rapidly, how do you think about time in your practice?
I don’t see art as a commodity. For me, it’s an object of contemplation—something to be lived with, returned to, and slowly absorbed.
Website: https://www.ramsesruiz.com/
Instagram: ramses.ruiz.escultor






